That afternoon, Desi found herself in her father's study, surrounded by the leather-bound law books and political treatises that had shaped Whitmore family philosophy for three generations. The room smelled like old paper and furniture polish, with subtle notes of the bourbon David occasionally sipped while reading late into the night.

"Tell me about the Riverside Accords," he said, settling behind his massive oak desk with the kind of casual authority that made even Alpha wolves listen when ...